The Hyde Effect
by Panhead13
Summary: A thirsty Gilligan drinks one of the Professor's experiments, thinking it's grape juice. Soon, strange things start happening to Gilligan and to the other castaways, and a mystery is born that may alter their lives forever... What a strange case!
1. Grape Juice or Not

**From now on, on my Gilligan stories without official title illustrations, a "Gillicon" (Gilligan emoticon) will serve as the story's image to denote the mood of the story: You've all seen my "smiling Gilligan" illustration, and, as you'll notice, the Gilligan on this story isn't smiling. Meaning this is a more serious story than my past ones. I'll try to keep everyone in character as much as possible, though. :D**

**I got the idea for this one from the episode "And Then There Were None" and the song from Arthur, "Jekyll Jekyll Hyde", I believe. Yes. ARTHUR. That's probably the only kids' song I'll listen to over and over again for hours. XD**

**This won't be as serious as what happens in "What Lies Underneath" (That one has a creepy title image- just wait till I start rewriting it and post the story. It involves a chasm and vines), because I don't have the heart to write anything TRULY dark for this show... I'd just feel bad about doing it. :'D OK, so this may be pretty dark all the same. Anyhowza...**

**The Hyde Effect- Chapter 1: Grape Juice... or Not**

**.~GI~.**

The Professor squeezed the juice from the plump red berries into a coconut beaker, keenly paying mind to the amount he was squeezing. He cut off the squeezing and carefully removed the beaker. He poured about half of the juice into a bubbly white mixture. The liquids fizzled upon meeting, then turned indigo. The Professor sprinkled some dry, powdery substance into the mixture. It dissolved away, turning the mixture to a more purplish color.

_Just one final ingredient and this oil will be done,_ he thought, wiping his brow. A lot of the devices had been getting... err... creaky (how machines made of bamboo could get creaky was beyond even the Professor), and then Gilligan had unwittingly suggested oiling them. At that, the Skipper had started to argue that there _was_ no oil of that sort on the island. And that was when the idea struck the Professor to _make_ some. So he had done just that.

The Professor reached for the final ingredient. He opened the jar and found nothing in it. He sighed, his relief to be done short-lived. The scientist begrudgingly got up to quickly get the last ingredient; it grew from a plant that grew not far from the camp. It wouldn't take too long to get.

He exited the hut, leaving the purple oil substitute unattended.

**.~GI~.**

Gilligan ambled into camp. He was having one of those weird days.

Firstly, he and the Skipper had been alternating work all day (It was usually Gilligan doing most of the work, so it was nice that the Skipper was helping with the chores he usually did alone), and secondly, Gilligan had the _worst_ case of the munchies he'd ever had. The Skipper had confiscated more than one banana from him when he was supposed to be working, not having a snack break.

All of that working and munching had really made Gilligan thirsty. He had come back to camp to get a drink, only, as he discovered, the drinking water wasn't in its proper place. He scratched the back of his head, puzzling over it. Where was the water?

_I'll ask the Professor,_ he decided, going to the Professor's hut. "Professor? Professor, where's the water?" he asked, running into the hut. He didn't see the Professor there, but he _did_ see a cup of purple liquid lying on the table.

Gilligan's thirsty desire for a drink overrided his more sensible nature and told his impulsive nature that this purple liquid _must_ be grape juice and that he should, by all means, drink it. "Oh, boy, grape juice," he said, lifting the cup. He gulped it down thirstily, and he realized too late that the liquid tasted nothing like grapes.

He set the cup down, smacking the strange taste from his lips. "Not grapes," he said, "but not bad." He left the hut to get back to work, unaware of what he had just done.

**.~GI~.**

The Professor returned to camp, ingredient in hand. This ingredient would help the oil be more effective, and hopefully clean the oil of any odd impurities.

He entered camp and passed by Gilligan, who smiled and waved. The Professor greeted him and went back to his hut, glad to at last be done with the oil. However, when he looked at the corner of the table where he'd left the cup, he balked. The cup was empty.

His mind began to work out all the all the possible reasons as to why this could be, and one answer stood out to him among the rest. Somebody must have drunken it. And the only person even _remotely_ foolish and impulsive enough to do that was Gilligan.

"Oh no," interjected the Professor. He set down the plant matter in his hand and ran back out of the hut. "Gilligan, come back!" But Gilligan was already long gone, and he and the Skipper wouldn't be back until dinnertime. The Professor sighed. He'd just have to wait and see how the stuff affected Gilligan.

He had no idea how some of the stuff in the oil would affect a human being. As far as he knew, it was completely harmless. But then again, it could make a person ill. It might even kill. But that was unlikely, the Professor knew that much- at most it would give Gilligan some weird dreams, but then, the first mate _always_ had weird dreams.

The Professor had to wait to find out how the mixture would affect Gilligan, and it would be a long wait indeed.

**.~GI~.**

**EDIT 5/24/14: Fixed a minor spelling error**

**Not really much of a "chapter"; more of a prologue. The next chapter will be MUCH longer, I can assure you. :3**

**I think this show has helped evolve my writing style, actually. XD Every fandom does good for my art or my writing, because I have more to practice with.**

**Also... I watch Gilligan on MeTV, and they published this new Gilligan's Island ad featuring the Professor going somewhere along the lines of "The Professor... who is so smart... and can build all these contraptions... why can't he fix the S.S. Minnow?" XD I cracked up at that. I love MeTV's ads. They're so clever. XD**


	2. Fight

**So here we are with a longer chapter. :D O.O Oh crud. I just started listening to this song and got another craaaaaazy AU. Help me I'm getting AU Hunterfic ideas... I guess that's all right though. A bit dark though. No, a "bit" is not the word for it. It's way dark. Like, the first truly "dark" Gilliganfic I've ever had the idea for. OK, enough about the idea I just got... As it would cause severe twisting of character.**

**ON WITH THE STORY! What will happen to Gilligan?**

**The Hyde Effect- Chapter 2: Fight**

**.~GI~.**

Gilligan and the Skipper had come back just in time for dinner. The Skipper was famished, but Gilligan didn't look at all excited about having dinner. He just sat down and watched while everyone else got their food.

After a while, Mary Ann noticed that Gilligan hadn't even begun to fill his plate. "Gilligan, aren't you going to eat something?" she asked.

"Yes, you haven't touched a thing," Mr. Howell agreed.

One side of Gilligan's mouth quirked up. "Well, I'm not really hungry," he said.

"After all of those bananas you ate today, I'm not really surprised," said the Skipper with an inch of gentle scorn.

"Actually, I'm not feeling very good," said Gilligan. "Can I just go lie down?" He was silently excused from the table. Gilligan shuffled off to his hut, slumping over a bit.

The Professor's brow furrowed. He had originally wondered if Gilligan's lack of appetite could be contributed to the oil, but it more seemed like a result of Gilligan eating too much before dinner.

_I'll see how he is in the morning,_ he thought to himself.

**.~GI~.**

_**2 AM/**_

It was a crash loud enough to reach Hawaii.

There was shouting and banging. The Skipper jumped right out of his hammock, roused from his sleep. He noticed right off that Gilligan wasn't in his hammock. His first thought was _What on earth is he doing?_, but it quickly changed to _What on earth has got him and why is it ransacking the supply hut?_

The Skipper ran out of the hut, shouting the name of his first mate. A final smash and a thud came from the supply hut. He stopped by the door. "Gilligan, are you all right in there?" When he got no answer, he shoved the door open. There, sprawled on top of a box of spilled mangos, lay Gilligan. He looked as if he was passed out. "Gilligan!" exclaimed the Skipper, hurrying to his little buddy's side.

At the sound of the big man's voice, Gilligan's large eyes popped open. He scrambled up. "Has it gone, Skipper?" he asked, gripping a wooden board and looking around the room frantically. "Have I fought it off?"

"Fought _what_ off?" asked the Skipper.

Gilligan blinked, his tense shoulders drooping. "Actually, I... I don't really remember what it looked like. But it was in the supply hut, and then _I_ was in the supply hut, and I tried to fight it off, see?" The young man started to awkwardly swing the board around and make swooshing noises.

"Gilligan, stop that before you hurt me with it," the Skipper ordered, a bit wary of Gilligan's swinging. He did, after all, usually end up getting injured by Gilligan's accidents at times. Gilligan stopped. Then the Skipper started to ask him more questions. "Now, you can't remember at _all_ what this thing looked like?"

"I don't know. It was too dark to tell," Gilligan explained. "And my eyes are all fuzzy." He blinked his eyes repeatedly as if he was trying to squeeze the sleep out of them.

"Well, what about height? Weight? _Smell?_"

Gilligan's eyes grew wide as his gaze focused on something behind the Skipper's shoulder. "Sk... Skipper," Gilligan whispered. "See for yourself."

The Skipper slowly turned around to look over his shoulder. He saw utterly nothing. "Gilligan, there's nothing there," he said, facing the younger man again.

But Gilligan's gaze was firmly focused on whatever was supposed to be behind the Skipper. He was tense and his grip on the board was firm. "Just... just don't move, Skipper; I'll get it," he said, his voice low and shaking.

The Skipper double-checked over his shoulder to make _sure_ there was nothing there before again stating that there was _nothing_ behind him. Meanwhile, Gilligan was getting closer to the Skipper, a funny sort of look gleaming in his eyes. It was the sort of look that instilled fear in an experienced sailor like Jonas Grumby. He took a step backwards.

"Skipper, no, don't do that, he'll-!" A panic hit Gilligan, and he brought down his board on _whatever_. Instead, it ended up hitting the Skipper square on the shoulder.

"Ohf!" he exclaimed. A stunning sort of pain zapped through his nerves and sent him stumbling down a bit.

"No, no, leave him alone!" Gilligan shouted, smashing various items in pursuit of the invisible... whatever. Now the Professor showed up, the girls and the Howells following close behind.

"What on earth is that _awful_ racket?" cried Mrs. Howell.

Mr. Howell scrutinized the situation, then drew back in surprise. "Why, I think it's Gilligan!" he exclaimed, shocked.

Mrs. Howell looked surprised as well. "The poor boy needs to find better ways of expressing his anger," she said, oblivious as she could sometimes be.

The Professor, sensing the urgency of the situation, cautioned the others to stay back. "I don't think he knows what he's doing," he said. With that, he approached the hut and pulled the Skipper out. "Gilligan!" he called.

"He thinks he's fighting something," the Skipper explained, rubbing his stricken shoulder.

Both men watched as Gilligan smashed more things with his board, shouting things like "Get out!" and "No, don't go after them; they're my friends!"

"I'll stop him," said the Professor. The man cautiously approached the seemingly one-sided fight going on inside the storage hut.

Gilligan tensed up upon seeing that the Professor was coming inside. "No, Professor... st- stay back!" He held out his hand in caution. "He'll hurt you, he'll-!"

"Gilligan, there is no one else in here but you and I," said the Professor, edging closer. Gilligan looked off to the side, then back to the Professor. "Just come over to me," the man urged, beckoning Gilligan with his hand. Gilligan slowly moved closer to the Professor, keeping his wary blue-green eyes fixed on something to the side of the hut. "Come on. Leave it be." Gilligan dropped the board when he reached the Professor, then the two left the storage hut.

Once outside, Gilligan panicked again and slammed the door shut. "That'll teach _you!_" he shouted.

"Gilligan, look at me," the Professor ordered. The young man hesitantly tore his eyes away from the hut. "There is _nothing_ in there. You're having a hallucination."

"A hallu-what?" asked Gilligan, bewildered.

"You're seeing things that aren't there," the scientist repeated in simple language.

"Gilligan, my boy, what was all that about?" questioned Mr. Howell, approaching Gilligan.

"He's having a hallucination, Mr. Howell," the Professor answered. He turned back to Gilligan. "Gilligan, come with me. You too, Skipper." The Skipper and Gilligan followed the scientist back to his hut.

The Professor had them sit down in chairs across from him. "Gilligan, when you briefly stopped by camp yesterday, what did you do?" he asked.

Gilligan started to think. "Let's see, um... oh yeah! I came back to get a drink of water," he said. "Except the water wasn't where it was supposed to be and I didn't know where to find it."

"Then what?"

"I came looking for you to ask if _you_ knew where it was, but you weren't there. Lucky I found that juice you had on the table or I'd have died of thirst." He had a casual, innocent smile on his face when he brought up the juice.

The Professor looked him in the eye. "Gilligan, that wasn't juice," he said.

Gilligan's expression turned a total 360. "It wasn't?" he asked. Blood began to pulse through his ears. He swallowed, suddenly nervous.

"No. It was the oil I was making to fix our machines."

"Oh no, Professor," the Skipper began. "That means that... well... that Gilligan drank... that he drank something..."

"It may not be overly harmful, Skipper," the Professor explained.

"Good," Gilligan breathed.

The Professor continued, "But it may have caused that hallucination back at the supply hut."

Gilligan's eyes grew wide. "Bad," he said.

"Hopefully the effects are only temporary," said the Professor.

Gilligan smiled. "Good."

"But they may be pretty severe, and they could last for an entire day or more."

Gilligan drooped again. "Bad."

"Oh, Gilligan," the Skipper began, "How do you get yourself into these situations?"

Gilligan had nothing to say.

**.~GI~.**

**EDIT 5/24/14: Fixed a minor punctuation error**

**I enjoyed writing the last dialogue section of this chapter... for some reason. XD**

**Also, seeing as I haven't started the next chapter yet, it could be a while before next update. This is an issue in my multichapter stories, I should warn you... It took me an entire year and a month to finish writing a 9-chaptered story... so beware. XD**

**Please review! :D And I'm also gonna see if I can get a good cover image for this story. I do draw my own, by the way. I can draw Gilligan without a reference now and I need to try my hand at drawing the others. XD**


	3. Something is Berry Wrong Here

**So, here we are, at last with the third chapter. Sooner than expected, actually. XD So, what's going to happen that I mention in the summary? Read on to see...**

**This story is getting weirder and weirder, I tell ya. Why? Well... a lot of what I have in mind could be in an episode of GI easily (like what I have planned for chapter 4...), but quite a bit of it may be a bit darker than what would be permitted on this show. XD It's fun to mix the two though, I should daresay.**

**Also, I just realized a major pun in my title in relation to the story. It's kind of focusing on the "side effects" of that oil Gilligan drank, while relating to Mr. Hyde. Side effect... Hyde effect... yeah, I didn't realize I pulled that one. :0**

**The Hyde Effect- Chapter 3: Something is Berry Wrong Here**

**.~GI~.**

Gilligan spent the rest of the night tossing and turning in his sleep, mumbling and sweating. The Skipper was wide awake with worry. He didn't know _how_ Gilligan even managed to get to sleep with the knowledge of how his current situation would affect him. If anything, Gilligan should be the one lying awake with worry. No doubt those worries were being expressed in one form or another through his dreaming.

But the Skipper couldn't even close his eyes for more than a few seconds, much less even begin to doze. He was very worried about his little buddy and how he would be in the morning. Would he be too sick to move? Would he hallucinate for the entire day? Would he be... the Skipper gulped at the thought... _dead?_

After a while, Gilligan's breathing grew easier, as if he was exiting the dream phase of sleep. The Skipper relaxed after realizing this, feeling some of his worry drift away. Gilligan would be fine. He _had_ to be. The world would be a strange place without Gilligan around. It would be a slightly less hazardous world, but it would be very strange indeed without Gilligan. The Skipper finally allowed himself some rest.

He didn't know when he fell asleep, but when he woke up, Gilligan was no longer in his hammock. He got up, muttering to himself. He looked around camp for his little buddy, but he was nowhere to be found.

He spotted the Howells starting off on a morning walk and approached them. "Morning, Mr. and Mrs. Howell," he greeted. "Did either of you happen to see Gilligan anywhere?"

"Not this morning, I haven't," said Mr. Howell.

"I don't believe I have, either," said Mrs. Howell.

"Is it important?"

"Sort of. He might have gone into the jungle," the Skipper reasoned. "If you see him, could you tell me where he is?"

"Certainly, captain," said Mr. Howell. "After our walk, that is."

The Skipper smiled. "Thanks," he said, setting off on his own excursion. "But meanwhile, I'll look for him myself."

**.~GI~.**

Gilligan had taken a stroll into the jungle. He felt much better this morning, but he felt like he was missing something. Something similar to hunger gnawed at him from the inside, but it wasn't the same sort of feeling. Something was missing that he needed. And he didn't know what it was.

He thought maybe taking a walk would ring a bell in his head. So far, nothing had happened. Until he caught a whiff of a certain fragrance.

Now, he'd smelled this particular scent countless times before, but never before had it smelled so _appealing._ Odd flips turned about in the pit of his stomach. His heart began to beat faster. He was sure his temperature began to rise. Ding ding, a bell rang in his head. Whatever made that smell was what he needed.

He followed his nose to a bush growing nearby. Clusters of tempting red berries grew from it. They looked tasty. He _knew_ that these would replace the empty, missing feeling inside of him, whatever it was.

He bent down to pick and eat some, but then another thought entered his mind. _What if these berries are poisonous? I wonder if I should ask the Professor._ No, he told himself. Nothing that smelled so good could be poisonous. And to be safe, he'd only eat a few. Gilligan picked a single cluster of berries for a snack and headed back to camp, munching on them.

**.~GI~.**

Mary Ann saw Gilligan leave, eating a cluster of pretty, fragrant red berries. They had a sweet aroma similar to a strawberry and a peach, and the bush that they grew from was easily accessible.

She smiled to herself and tasted a berry. _These would be great in a pie,_ she thought. She had never collected these berries before because she'd never seen anyone eat them until now. Now that she'd seen somebody eating them, she decided that this could be an invaluable opportunity to try something new. Gilligan seemed to like them enough, anyway.

She picked several clusters of the berries, deciding to bake a pie with them for dessert at lunch.

**.~GI~.**

The Skipper finally spotted Gilligan in the jungle; he looked to be heading back towards camp. He had a funny grin on his face and a bit of a red juice dripping from the corner of his lip. "Gilligan! Come over here!" the Skipper called. Gilligan didn't seem to notice the man's calling. The Skipper called again, rapidly approaching Gilligan. "Gilligan, didn't you hear me calling you?"

"Hmm?" Gilligan seemed to snap out of something. He turned his head to see the Skipper, then quickly wiped his mouth as a faint look of guilt passed over his eyes. "Oh, um, nope." He shook his head for emphasis.

"What are you doing?" the Skipper asked, frustrated that Gilligan hadn't heard him.

"I was just going for a walk, Skipper," said Gilligan.

The Skipper sighed. "Any more hallucinations?"

"No. I feel fine now." Gilligan smiled. "The guy from last night didn't show up again. Well, he was in my nightmare last night, but he hasn't shown up today."

"So you know for sure what you thought you saw last night was a 'he'?" the Skipper questioned.

Gilligan nodded furiously. "Yeah. He was real skinny, and his eyes sort of bulged out of his sockets, kinda like this." He tried to make his eyes go as wide as they could. His cheeks puffed out with air as he began to go cross-eyed with effort.

"Gilligan, stop that."

Gilligan's face changed back to normal. "He sure was good at avoiding my hits, too," he continued. He started swinging his arm about, and ended up elbowing the Skipper in the face.

"Oop!" the Skipper yelped.

Gilligan winced. "Sorry, Skipper."

The Skipper let this one go with a bite to his lip. "Gilligan, just... watch where you put your elbows!" he yelled simply, relaying his annoyance.

"All right, Skipper."

"Now, come on. We've got work to do."

Gilligan looked perplexed. "More work? What sort of work? Boy, we did a _lot_ of work yesterday, can't we just take a..."

"Well," the Skipper began, effectively cutting off the last word of Gilligan's sentence, "we've got to replace all the stuff _you_ smashed last night, for one thing." He scarcely noticed Gilligan's flinch when he emphasized the word "you".

"All right, Skipper. But..." Gilligan began to hesitate.

"But _what,_ Gilligan?"

"What if he shows up again and I wreck everything again?"

The Skipper sighed. "You won't wreck anything if you don't fight him," he said. "Just ignore him and _don't_ fight him. Got it?"

Gilligan nodded, smiling. "Ignore, don't fight. Got it."

**.~GI~.**

The first thing Gilligan ended up doing was collecting enough food to replace what he'd destroyed while the Skipper and the Professor cleaned up the mess in the storage hut. Gilligan thought about them working together and wished _he_ had someone to help him out. He knew the Howells would refuse, he was afraid to ask Ginger, and Mary Ann was busy with lunch. He didn't want to make the Skipper take any longer than he had to on cleaning up the mess, so he made do with working by himself.

He whistled a little tune (which sounded oddly like the opening theme) as he climbed trees, filling bags with coconuts, mangos, pineapples, papayas, bananas, and soforth. He brought his full bags back to camp every 10 to 15 minutes or so to empty them.

On one of these trips back into camp, he caught a whiff of something that sent his heartbeat into loud mode. He sniffed the air again and again, dropping his sacks to the ground. It smelled like the berries he'd been so attracted to earlier, only it was hotter, sweeter. He sniffed the air and shut his eyes, letting his feet carry him to the source. (We call this "Gilligan-location")

When Gilligan opened his eyes again, he discovered he was standing in the makeshift kitchen... and Mary Ann was baking a pie. "Wow, Mary Ann, that smells great," he said, grinning. "What kind of..." he swallowed a glob of saliva building in his mouth, "...pie are you baking?"

"One with those berries I saw you eating this morning," Mary Ann replied.

"But Mary Ann, you can't bake a pie with those berries," Gilligan said.

Mary Ann gave him a slight look. "Why not? Do they taste bad?" Gilligan shook his head. "Then why can't I?"

"I already ate 'em!"

Mary Ann chuckled a bit at her friend's confusion. He always made silly mistakes like that. "Not the berries you _ate,_ the berries from the bush you _picked_ them from."

"Oh, _those_ berries!" Gilligan smiled, blushing from embarrassment. His off-white sneakers suddenly became very fascinating things to observe. "Nothing wrong with _those_ berries." He looked up again with sparkling eyes. His heart was hammering and his stomach was flipping somersaults from the sheer _smell_ of the pie radiating from the oven. "Can I have it when it's done?"

"At dessert," smiled Mary Ann. "Then everyone can have some."

For some reason, the thought of anybody else getting a taste of _his_ berries made Gilligan feel quite upset. "But... but Mary Ann..." He hesitated, finding he had no good reason to have the pie to himself.

Mary Ann waited for him to finish his sentence, but he never did. "'But Mary Ann' what?" she asked.

Gilligan looked down and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Nothing," he mumbled. He walked away, deciding to finish collecting the food before lunch.

Gilligan was confused. He didn't usually have such strong selfish feelings like that, especially when he could always have the pie at lunch. For some reason, something was nagging at him in the back of his head, and it was telling him that he alone should have the pie, and that no one else should eat any part of it.

Gilligan himself found this odd (and he didn't usually think too hard about things), so he felt it best to avoid the temptation before he did something _else_ stupid that he would regret. He did stupid things all the time, but they were usually just honest mistakes. _This_ stupid thing would have been done on purpose, and Gilligan felt it best to keep himself from doing such a thing. After all, if he did, he might end up with no pie _and_ no lunch, and he didn't want to starve.

"Hey, Gilligan! Where's the fruit you just gathered?"

Gilligan broke away from his thoughts when he heard the Skipper's gruff question. "Oh. I'll go get it, Skipper!" Gilligan hurried back to the spot where he'd dropped the food to grab the bags and bring them over to the Skipper.

**.~GI~.**

**EDIT 5/24/14: Fixed some minor spelling errors.**

**Anyone else notice how slowly I'm progressing in this story? That's quite intentional. It seems a bit silly here at first, but the "Hyde" part of my title will come in eventually, I promise. :P**

**Also, almost 400 stories in the GI fanfiction archive! When I first checked it in February or March, it only had 316 fanfics! I was thinking it'd be cool if we could have 500 fanfics on this site by the 50th anniversary of GI this year. I'm calling it the "500 by 50" challenge! I've already drawn 4 or 5 promotional chibi cartoons for it. XD Need to post them.**

**You don't have to do it, but it'd be so cool to have 500 GI stories up by the 50th anniversary! :D**


	4. And You Shall Get Some Pie

**Hoooo boi, chapter 4. So what's up with these funny red berries? They seem to be giving Gilligan quite a spell. He even seems to be under a spell!**

**So, what's with the berries? How will Jekyll and Hyde come into this? Will I be able to keep this story from getting too out-of-control? Probably not. Everything will begin to tie in eventually...**

**I finally muddled past the slight writer's block on this chapter and finished it up lickety-split! :D Had to rename the chapter though, since my story decided to write itself again. XD My stories have a bad habit of not doing what I want them to. lolz.**

**This chapter contains: Gilligan-and-Skipper bantering, creepy weirdness, and lots of berry pie!**

**I tried to update this yesterday as my update instead of a drabble in "G is for Gilligan", but then I had to get a shower and my sister was doing something with her iPod on the computer. So, here's the makeup. XD Please enjoy, Chapter 5 coming soon, I hope. It's almost done being written but I've got finals in school that should really take priority. XD**

**The Hyde Effect- Chapter 4: And You Shall Get Some Pie**

**.~GI~.**

At last, it was lunchtime. The castaways gathered around the community table, chatting as Mary Ann brought out the lobster casserole, fruits, and oyster soup.

Gilligan scarcely noticed what everyone else was talking about; he hardly even tasted the food he was shovelling into his mouth. All he could even remotely notice was the smell of that pie permeating the air around him. It tempted him and made his stomach flip with excitement. He couldn't understand why nobody else was enthralled with the scent of the pie. All he really wanted to eat was that pie.

Gilligan finished his lunch and looked around the table, beaming. "Boy, that pie sure smells great, doesn't it?" he asked.

"Something _does_ smell really good," said the Skipper, shooting an excited glance back at the kitchen. At this, everyone started sniffing.

Mary Ann rose from her seat. "If everyone's ready for dessert I can go get the pies," she said.

Gilligan's eyes grew even bigger than usual. "Pie_s?"_ he asked, emphasizing the "s". "You made more than one of them?"

"That's what she just _said,_ Gilligan," the Skipper said, elbowing Gilligan.

Mary Ann brought out two berry pies and set them down. No longer had the pies been set on the table than Gilligan was grabbing one and cutting himself a big slice. As he ate it, the craving for the berries was satisfied.

Everyone agreed that it was a delicious pie. "What kind of pie is this?" asked Ginger.

"I made it from some berries I saw Gilligan eating," said Mary Ann.

Gilligan was soon finishing off his third slice of the pie. He saw that the Skipper already had another slice waiting for him once he finished the one he was on. "Skipper. Hey Skipper." The younger man poked the Skipper in the elbow.

"What, Gilligan?" the Skipper snapped after a few seconds.

Gilligan smiled shyly and pointed at his big buddy's uneaten slice of pie. "Are you gonna eat that?"

The Skipper sighed and rolled his eyes. "Of course I am, Giligan; why else would I have gotten it?"

"You don't need it, Skipper; I'm the skinny one," said Gilligan, leaning over the big man to try to grab his plate.

The Skipper yanked his cap off his head, ready to strike if the young man so much as _touched_ his food. Gilligan's hands drew back the moment the cap came off. "But Skipper-!"

"It's _mine,_ Gilligan! Now, if you want more pie, get some from the main tin." With that, the Skipper stuck his cap back on his head.

Gilligan didn't really know why he wanted the Skipper's pie when there was still plenty left in the tins. He got another slice of pie to try to fulfill his strange appetite for these berries. But his cravings for them refused to be crushed, even when he could eat no more. This honestly frustrated young Gilligan, and after lunch he decided to go to the lagoon to think things over.

Easier said than done. "Gilligan, now you need to go get blah-blah-blah to put blah-blah back in the blah-blah-blah."

Gilligan shook his head, his eyebrows knitting with confusion. "I was gonna go down to the lagoon," said he. "What did you want again?"

"I need you to go get the fruit you collected and put it in boxes so we can put them back in the storage hut," the Skipper repeated.

"Oh... Skipper, I was working all morning," complained Gilligan, drooping.

"And you'll work all afternoon, too," said the Skipper.

Something clicked in Gilligan's brain, something that didn't usually turn on when needed. And it brought on a question. "Why?"

The Skipper took a double take at Gilligan. "What do you _mean,_ 'why'?" he questioned.

"Why is it I'm always the one doing all the work around here all the time? Why can't I get some _help_ for a change?"

The Skipper knew he detected an unusual anger in the younger man's voice. "I helped you all day yesterday, Gilligan," said the Skipper. "Or rather _you_ were helping _me."_

"So why can't you help me today?"

"Because I'm busy with _other_ things," the Skipper retorted. "Now go do as I've asked!"

"Well, maybe _I'm_ busy with other things, too! Like going to the lagoon!"

The Skipper was surprised at the amount of anger that was coming from his first mate. The younger fellow didn't anger easily, and yet here he was. Anger was etched into his furrowed brow and sparkling in his normally confused, happy eyes. The Skipper opened his mouth again. "Gilligan, if you don't go put away those fruits _right now,_ I will _force_ you to do it!"

"Just let him go, Skipper," said the Professor, approaching the two from behind. He set a hand on the Skipper's shoulder to try to calm him down. "We are perfectly capable of doing that ourselves. Give Gilligan a break; we'll see if he can't come back refreshed."

Gilligan had already stormed off into the jungle, crossing his arms and pouting. "Gee. I feel like I do all the hard work on this island," he said aloud to himself as he crashed through the foliage down to the lagoon. "Everyone else hardly lifts a finger to help me..."

He arrived at the lagoon and sat down on his favorite rock, sighing. He didn't know what his sudden streak of rebellion was all about. He wanted to do what _he_ wanted to do, not what everyone else wanted him to do! It was much like the feelings he had had earlier with the pie. How he had wanted the whole thing to himself, and how he had wanted the Skipper's pie when there was still some on the tins. And he suddenly felt bad about it.

_Maybe I should go back and do what the Skipper asked,_ he thought. But then he knew he needed a bit of quiet time to himself. Now that he had it, he shouldn't waste it. He picked up a nearby branch and slid down the rock into the warm, soft sand. First, he plucked the leaves from it. Then he pulled out his pocketknife and began to whittle on it.

After a few minutes, Gilligan got the feeling that he was being watched. He stopped whittling and set down the branch and his knife, sighing. "I know you're there, whoever you are," he said. "You might as well show yourself." But there was no answer. Gilligan's spine tingled nervously. "Skip... Skipper? Professor?"

No reply.

"Mary Ann? G-Ginger?"

Still no answer.

"Mr. Howell? Mrs. Howell?" His voice was going squeaky. Eyes bore into him.

Slowly, Gilligan stood up and turned around to look upon his spy. He saw a faint, thin figure standing in the jungle behind him. His eyes sharpened. "Oh, no. Not you again," he said, backing up some. "I'm not going to fight you again. N-_ope."_ He shook his head in defiance.

The ghostly figure stood there, unmoving, aside from a slight cock of its head. Gilligan's brief moment of courage faltered at that. His head sunk into his shoulders, his arms folding in nervousness. "OK, if you... if you just want to keep standing there, that's fine. I'll just... I'll just ignore you." He shut his eyes tight.

Five seconds later, he opened his eyes to see if the phantom had gone. It wasn't in the jungle anymore. Now it was directly in front of Gilligan's face.

Gilligan yelped in terror and stumbled backwards. He tripped over the stick he had been whittling and fell backfirst into the lagoon with a great splash. When he looked up again, the thing was gone.

But boy, did he feel weird.

**.~GI~.**

The storage hut was organized once again. The Skipper brushed his hands together, sighing in relief. He found he had a bit of a headache now, and he felt like lying down. "Professor," he panted, "Do you feel as bad as I do?"

"Yes, I believe I might," the Professor answered.

"I've got a _killer_ headache," said the Skipper, holding his forehead. He grunted and headed for the hut. "I'm just going to lie down for a while."

The Professor just decided to sit down at the community table to rest. A little bit of rest might be all he needed to alleviate his sudden headache. It wasn't just his head that hurt; his stomach felt odd, as if his lunch was just sitting in his stomach and not digesting.

"Hello, Professor," a female voice greeted.

The Professor lifted his head. "Oh. Hello, Ginger," he said.

"You're tired already? Surely putting away supplies couldn't have taken that much energy," said Ginger, sitting down.

The Professor thought about that. "You're right, Ginger; it shouldn't have," he said.

"Then why did it?" Ginger questioned, giving voice to the man's very thoughts.

The Professor cupped his chin in his hand, thinking again. His stomach was upset, therefore meaning it must have been something he ate. He was fine after breakfast; thus, he concluded that his problems must have come from lunch. But there was nothing out-of-the-ordinary at the lunch table. It was just oyster soup, a fruit selection of pineapple, grapefruit, and orange, some lobster casserole, and two of Mary Ann's pies.

Wait, the pie! It was a new recipe. The Professor looked up at Ginger. "Ginger, do you know what kind of pie Mary Ann made?" he asked.

Ginger shrugged. "She didn't really tell me what kind; she just said she'd made it with some berries she'd seen Gilligan eating."

Two pieces of that sentence connected in the Professor's head like two pieces of a puzzle. Gilligan, berries. Berries and Gilligan. Gilligan eating berries. "That's it!" the man declared, rising to his feet. "Those berries in the pie must have been the same berries I put in my oil substitute!"

It all made sense. Gilligan's lack of appetite before dinner that previous night and his fatigue, and his later hallucination. Janupa berries were also known to have addictive qualities as well as hallucinogenic ones to some. That might have been why Mary Ann saw him eating them. And Gilligan had also seemed rather greedy when eating the dessert containing said berries.

Ginger gasped. "And we _all_ ate some of that pie!" she realized. "Are they poisonous?"

"Mildly," the Professor answered. "They make you sick for a few hours, but they're not deadly."

Ginger smiled softly, relieved. "Well, that's good to know," she said.

The Professor continued. "Unfortunately, they are also hallucinogenic, and highly addictive to some persons."

Ginger's face turned again. "I'd have rather _not_ known that," she said.

"I'm going to find Gilligan," said the Professor. "And make sure you tell Mary Ann to _never_ cook with those berries again." With that, he hurried into the jungle. He hoped that Gilligan wasn't suffering any more ill effects of the berries.

**.~GI~.**

He peeked into the hut where the Skipper was sleeping. His eyes glimmered as his heart hammered in his head. Liquid dripped from his long fingers, and his glimmering eyes were bloodshot.

He climbed in stealthily through the window, sneaking up on the Skipper's sleeping form. He grabbed a nearby coconut and approached the hammock, his breathing somewhat ragged. The Skipper opened one eye and saw the fright standing over him. "What are you...?"

The coconut in the invader's hand came down upon his forehead. _That'll make my headache worse,_ he thought before going out in black. Then the attacker pulled the Skipper out of the hammock and threw the big man's arm over his shoulder. Then he dragged him out of the hut.

**.~GI~.**

**EDIT 5/24/14: Fixed a bunch of spelling errors and one punctuation error.**

**More questions have arisen! What is this thing, and why is it targetting Gilligan? Will the Professor be able to search the jungle without succumbing to his headache? Who or what just nailed the Skipper with a coconut?**

**Find out in the next exciting installment of "The Hyde Effect"!**

**OK, that was a bit much. XD But here's your update! Hopefully I can post the next chapter soon.**

**Also, the events of the next chapter aren't exactly what they seem to be... ;)**


	5. Bloody Berry

**As I said at the end of the last chapter, the events of this chapter are NOT WHAT THEY SEEM! Believe me, this story is not in need of a T or M rating because it's totally clean, I tell ya, CLEAN! Just in case, ya know, someone would want to report me for this chapter being above my chosen rating. I hope you're reading and making fair judgments of my intentions, and not just looking for a way to accuse.**

**Anyway, I finally finished this chapter. Yay! :D This chapter contains: An observant Professor, a scared Gilligan, a guilty Mary Ann, and of course... berries.**

**Enjoy!**

**The Hyde Effect- Chapter 5: Bloody Berry**

**.~GI~.**

The Professor had arrived at the lagoon. Gilligan's evidence was there, all right. His pocketknife lay in the sand next to a boulder. Near the pocketknife was a stick and wood shavings.

The scientist sighed. It wasn't like Gilligan to leave his pocketknife behind. Yet he had. A trail of shoeprints led from the lagoon straight into the jungle. The Professor followed the footprints up through the sandy jungle path until they disappeared into the leaves and ferns. However, he stuck down the path's current pattern until he came across utter chaos.

A bush, usually covered in red janupa berries, was near bare. Juice from the berries was splattered everywhere, making the entire scene look rather gruesome. The Professor shook his head, eying a few red splotches dotting the ground and moving away from the bush.

It was worse than he thought.

**.~GI~.**

Gilligan stirred to consciousness. He was lying on the ground. His head was throbbing and his stomach hurt terribly. He wondered what hit him.

He sat up, holding his head with one hand and a soiled object in the other. He squished it. "When did I take my hat off?" he wondered aloud. Then, he realized that he had _not_ removed his hat- It was still upon his head. His eyes grew wide with fearful curiosity as he slowly looked down. He was holding a hat, all right, but it wasn't his. It belonged to the Skipper. And it, and his hands, were covered in a crimson red liquid.

Gilligan's expression turned to cold dread, his face paling. "Oh no, oh no I... I... I've killed the Skipper!" he realized, scuffling to his feet. "Nonono! I killed him! I killed the Skipper!" He ran off into the jungle, terrified.

Now he could never return. He could at least wash himself off, and they would never know. He could hide the hat somewhere where it couldn't be found. But then he was dangerous. Hiding was his only option now. Then he couldn't harm any more of his friends.

**.~GI~.**

The Professor stumbled back into camp. His headache had gotten even worse, and he had found neither hide nor hat of Gilligan. He was getting ready to lie down in bed when Mary Ann came running up to him.

"Professor, have you seen the Skipper?" she asked. "I came into his hut to see if he was all right after Ginger told me about those berries... and he wasn't there."

"I hope he hasn't started hallucinating too," said the Professor. "I hope he and Gilligan aren't hurting themselves out there."

"Gilligan too? Oh, and _he_ had more of that pie than..." Mary Ann covered her mouth with her hands. "Oh, I feel terrible!" With that, she ran back toward the girls' hut, tears welling up in her eyes.

The Professor went into the Skipper's and Gilligan's hut to look for anything bizarre. He didn't see anything at first, but then he saw a few crimson droplets on the floor, trailing from the window to the door. The consistency of the dots increased right next to the hammocks.

Then something else caught the Professor's observant eye. A coconut lay under the bottom hammock. The scientist bent down and picked up the coconut. He noticed a great big red mark in the shape of a human hand on it, and it was cracked on the bottom. If his eyes weren't deceiving him, the Professor was afraid he knew _exactly_ what was going on.

_I hope he hasn't gone so delusional that it's affecting his sanity,_ he thought. Gilligan not only ate a lot of pie, but it seemed he had _attacked_ the janupa bush and had gotten a double dose of the berries. If he wasn't crazy, he was unconscious. If he wasn't unconscious, he was _dead._

The Professor's head was banging as if a hammer was repeatedly smacking him on the forehead. Not only that, but he was beginning to feel chilled. He lay down in the bottom hammock, not feeling like going anywhere else. He shut his eyes, groaning.

**.~GI~.**

Meanwhile, Mary Ann was being chewed up inside by guilt. "Oh... why didn't I ask the Professor about those berries first?" she lamented. She was worried about her friends. Ginger was now complaining of nausea, the Professor had just come into camp exhausted and holding his head; Mrs. Howell was hovering over her sick husband, she herself feeling ill. The Skipper and Gilligan were both missing.

As for Mary Ann, she couldn't tell the difference between the berries' effects and her own guilt. She was especially worried about Gilligan. The Skipper was a tough sailor who might have been fine off alone in the jungle. He could probably survive. But Gilligan was young and unworn. The thought of him being out on his own, affected by hallucinogenic berries, was nearly unbearable. She decided to go look for him.

She got up from her chair and headed for the door. "Mary Ann, where are you going?" asked Ginger.

"I'm going to look for Gilligan and the Skipper," Mary Ann said. She left the hut and crossed the clearing into the dense jungle. "Gilligan? Skipper? Oh... oh Gilligan!" she called, looking around. She ran further into the trees and ferns.

**.~GI~.**

Gilligan was hiding in a cave. He had cleaned himself off and was now separating himself from his friends. "I know it's not a trapdoor to an underground cave now," he said. "Now I really _am_ Mr. Hyde. And I really _am_ hurting people!" He took off his hat and wrung it. Realizing what he was doing to the hat, he quickly tossed it to the side, his heart jumping. "I'd better stop wringing my hat before I decide to wring someone's _neck!_" he declared, folding his hands.

Gilligan was distressed. He had killed his best buddy _ever,_ and he didn't even remember doing it! "Those stupid berries," he muttered. "I'll never eat another berry again. I _hate_ berries!" He shut his eyes. But then the image of the Skipper's reddened cap in his reddened hands flashed back again, and he reopened his eyes. He shuddered, his heart falling into his stomach like a stone from a hand.

Then he heard his name being called. "Gilligan! Skipper!"

Gilligan's eyes grew wide. He swallowed a massive lump in his throat. "There's nobody in this cave!" he yelled.

"Gilligan? Gilligan!" Mary Ann's voice called. Her face poked into Gilligan's cave. "Thank goodness you're all right!" she exclaimed.

"Mary Ann, I told you there was nobody in here," said Gilligan.

"If you didn't want me to find you, then you shouldn't have shouted," Mary Ann told him.

"Oh." Gilligan picked up his hat and set it back on his head.

Mary Ann scrutinized him. "You don't _look_ very sick," she noted.

Gilligan's head shot up to look at the girl. "Am I supposed to be?" he asked.

"Well, everyone else is. By the way, Gilligan, have you seen the Skipper?"

Gilligan almost blanched at Mary Ann's question. "I... I don't know, M- Mary Ann," he stuttered.

"No idea at all?" asked Mary Ann.

"He could be dead," said Gilligan. The words were out before he could stop them. He looked down, waiting an eternal second before she answered.

"Oh, Gilligan! You don't think...!"

"I don't think, I _know_!" Gilligan slipped out again. And then he couldn't make the words stop! "The Skipper is dead, Mary Ann! I killed him but I don't remember doing it! I just woke up in the jungle with his bloody hat in my hands!" He hung his head in shame. "And I'm hiding so I won't hurt anyone else." He pulled the Skipper's cap out from behind his back, showing it to Mary Ann. "See? He's gone." With that, a stray tear began to fall from his eye, his shaky hand falling.

"Gilligan..."

"I know, Mary Ann. No one's gonna want me around anymore."

"Gilligan, show me that hat," said Mary Ann. Gilligan tossed it to her, his head hanging in despair. Mary Ann picked it up, looked at it, and gave it a sniff. "Gilligan, this isn't blood," she said.

Gilligan looked up, wiping his eye. "It's not?"

Mary Ann shook her head, tossing back the hat. "Nope. Smell it for yourself." Gilligan picked up the hat and gave it one sniff. He smelled a fruity smell coming from the hat. "See, Gilligan? It's only berry juice," said Mary Ann.

"Berry juice!" Gilligan squeaked. "Why would I have been covered in berry juice?"

"Gee, I don't know," said Mary Ann.

Gilligan shrugged. "Neither do I," he said. "That's why I asked."

"Well... I'm glad you're all right. I made everyone else sick with those pies," Mary Ann said.

Gilligan looked at her, smiling sweetly. "I'd _never_ get sick of your pies, Mary Ann," he said.

Mary Ann smiled at the compliment. "Aw, that's very sweet of you to say, Gilligan, but... I mean I made everybody sick because of the berries I used in the pies. Everyone else is sick to their stomachs and have headaches, except for you."

Gilligan shrugged. "I said your pies could never make me sick." He grinned widely. "I sure am glad I didn't kill anybody."

"But we still don't know what happened to the Skipper," Mary Ann realized. "You have his hat, but where'd he go?"

Gilligan slumped. "I don't know. But at least we know I didn't kill him."

"Let's go back to camp and see how everyone is," suggested Mary Ann. "Then if everyone's feeling better we can search for the Skipper."

Gilligan nodded and rose to his feet, taking care not to bump his head on the roof of the cave. "Yeah," he agreed. The two young people left the cave.

**.~GI~.**

Gilligan and Mary Ann entered camp to find it empty. "Doesn't look like anyone's better," said Gilligan, looking down at his feet. He sat down at the table and set a hand on his forehead. "My head sure does hurt," he said.

Mary Ann looked down at him, folding her arms. "I thought you said you didn't feel sick," she said.

Gilligan looked up at her. "I was too busy feeling guilty to feel sick, I guess," he said, smiling.

"That makes two of us," said Mary Ann. "What about your stomach? Everyone else was complaining of nausea."

"Well..." Gilligan swallowed. "I don't feel like _that_ sort of sick to my stomach. It feels more like I ate ten triple-cheeseburgers and they're all packed in there real tight."

"So you feel full?"

"_Really_ full. I don't know why that would be. I didn't feel this way after lunch."

Mary Ann's eyes widened as if she'd just received a shocking revelation. "Gilligan, the berry juice!" she exclaimed. "You must have eaten more of those berries without knowing it."

Gilligan's eyes grew. "I did?" he squeaked.

"Well, you _must_ have," said Mary Ann.

A third voice entered the conversation. "I'm afraid you did, Gilligan," said the Professor, coming out of the Skipper's and Gilligan's hut. He looked a bit better than he had before.

"I ate a bunch of berries and I didn't know it?" Gilligan asked aloud.

"More than that," said the Professor, sitting down at the table across from Gilligan. "Mary Ann, you might want to sit down for this." Mary Ann sat down next to Gilligan, wondering what the Professor had to say.

The scientist showed the two young people a coconut. "I have amassed and analyzed the evidence, and I've determined what happened to the Skipper."

"Yeah, but do you _know_ what happened to him?" Gilligan asked.

"That's what I just said," said the Professor. "Now, look at this coconut. It's got a red handprint on it. On the other side, there's a dent and a fracture in the shell."

"I had berry juice all over my hands," said Gilligan. He didn't like where this was going, nor did he like the sinking feeling in his chest.

The Professor handed Gilligan the coconut. "Gilligan, your hand is exactly the same size of the handprint on this coconut." Gilligan looked down at the coconut, his heart pounding loudly in his ears. "I'm sorry, Gilligan, but it looks as if you purposefully attacked the Skipper while under the influence of those berries. Come with me, I'll show you."

**.~GI~.**

**EDIT 5/24/14: Fixed some minor spelling errors and replaced one word.**

**DUN DUN DUUUUUN.**

**See? It was only berry juice. No Skippers were killed in the making of this story. :)**

**If you thought this chapter was fun, wait till next time... muahahahahahahaha *shot* Also, I had coconut cream pie yesterday. It was goooooood. XD**

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter, the plot is just beginning to kind of sink in now. I don't know how long this story is going to be, since I'm just sort of writing as I go with a basic skeleton of a story going. :D Please review~**


	6. Midnight Snack

**Here's Chapter 6. :D Thanks for the reviews. This story is actually... kind of fun to write. XD Having fun while writing is good. It keeps up motivation.**

**After this, I will spend Tuesday working on my Danny Phantom fanfiction, "Frontlines", which I haven't updated in months due to lack of motivation. I will try to finish typing the entire story this week. I may find time to type a G is for Gilligan drabble, but don't expect one just in case I can't find the time. Just letting you know. :)**

**Also, whaddaya think of the new cover image? :D I love the rough effect of coloring some bits with markers and then shading them with crayon. Mediums: Marker, crayon, writing pen, MS Paint (for title text)**

**THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS: An introspective!Gilligan and general darkish stuff. Might be out of character for the show itself... slightly. (Especially the last two scenes! Tsk tsk!) Also tried my hand at more Howell dialogue. (The Howells are actually pretty fun to write when you get used to them)**

**The Hyde Effect: Chapter 6- Midnight Snack**

**.~GI~.**

The Professor led Gilligan and Mary Ann back into the jungle, down to the site where he had seen the chaos. The janupa bush was still stripped of many of its berries, the juice still splattered everywhere.

"I don't remember doing any of this, Professor. Honest," Gilligan said, giving the Professor his most innocent hazelly blue gaze.

"I'm not saying you do," said the Professor. "Though I will say your addiction to these berries has gotten out of hand."

"Addiction? Oh no, I've got an addiction! Hear that, Mary Ann? I have an addiction!" Gilligan's excited babbling ceased abruptly. His brow furrowed. He looked back at the Professor. "What's an addiction?" he asked.

The Professor looked thoughtful. How could he explain this to Gilligan? "Well, Gilligan, an addiction is what we call the feeling that you need something desperately, all the time, even when you don't need it. Well... How did you feel when you were eating the berry pie at lunch?"

"Well, I felt like I needed to eat more and more of it and not even stop. It went away when I was eating it but right when I finished a slice, boom! It would come back."

"That's an addiction," said the Professor.

"Addicted to some little berries? How is that even possible?" Mary Ann questioned. "He only had them for the first time either today or yesterday."

"Well, Mary Ann, these particular berries are highly addictive to some people. Normally, the addiction slowly builds on an individual, but for some reason Gilligan has gone head-over-heels for them within 24 hours." He shook his head. "I'm sure I'll think of something. We can figure this out, Gilligan." No response came from the young man. "Gilligan?"

While the conversation had been going on, Gilligan had become overpowered by the smell of the berries. Now he was bent over the bush and eating up the remaining berries.

Alarmed, the Professor grabbed Gilligan underneath both his arms and pulled him back from the bush. The younger man then did something unexpected. He pulled back against the Professor, violently jerking from side to side. "Gilligan!" the Professor shouted as he fought Gilligan's lashing back. "Gilligan, stop this!"

Gilligan pulled himself free from the Professor's grasp with a grunt. He immediately attacked the bush again. The Professor grabbed Gilligan again, this time wrapping his arms around the skinny sailor's chest and upper arms and holding his back firmly against his chest. "Mary Ann, help me restrain him!" the Professor called, dragging the deranged Gilligan away from the bush. Mary Ann rushed in and helped reenforce the Professor's strong grip. Together, they managed to drag Gilligan away from the bush. They let him gently drop to the ground once he stopped fighting.

Gilligan looked up at his friends, blinking. "What did I just do?" he asked, sitting up.

"You went after those berries again," said Mary Ann. "The Professor and I had to restrain you."

"Gilligan, I'm going to have to ask you to stay in camp for the rest of the day," said the Professor. "Perhaps I can get the Howells to watch you."

"But Professor..." Gilligan started to protest.

"We can't risk you doing what you just did again," the Professor explained. "Stay in camp. As the Skipper would say, 'That's an order.'"

Gilligan nodded. "All right, Skipper. I mean, Professor." He stood up, dusted off his jeans, and tugged his hat further down over his ears. "But I really wanted to go look for the Skipper with the rest of you." There was no masking the disappointment in his boyish face.

"You'll help him best by staying in camp," the Professor said.

While Gilligan doubted this, he just kept quiet and walked back to camp willingly with his two friends, keeping a careful watch on the shadowy figure in the corner of his eye.

**.~GI~.**

Gilligan lay in his hammock, staring up at the thatched ceiling of the hut. He had a million thoughts racing through his head at once. He thought about the berries. He thought about his recent behavior. He thought about the Skipper. Was his big buddy all right?

He thought about the skinny shadow thing that kept following him around. He couldn't make out most of the details on it, but if he was honest with himself, he'd say that the shadow looked a lot like _him._ It was skinny, like Gilligan. It looked like it wore a hat similar to Gilligan's. It was just way scarier. Darker. Its very presence felt evil, and its eyes created shivers down Gilligan's back.

He had lain there for the past three hours, the berries slowly leaving his system. His head no longer hurt and neither did his stomach. Now Gilligan was getting fidgety. He wished he could bug the Skipper, but the Skipper was, of course, missing.

The Professor had placed Gilligan under "hut arrest", so there were no walks through the jungle for him. He just lay there, wondering when somebody was going to come in with good news. Gilligan, we found the Skipper! Gilligan, come have dinner! Gilligan, we were wrong, you don't really have an addiction to those berries after all! He knew the last one would never come.

He climbed out of his hammock and approached the mirror. He studied his face closely, noting the creases of his dimples, the shape of his ears, the size of his nose, and the color of his eyes. The faint marks of time on his face that men in their twenties didn't typically have. He knew they weren't there three years ago.

He noticed his scruffy bangs peeking out from beneath his inverted white sailor hat. It was now too worn to fold upward properly. It was brand new when he'd first gotten it, back when he first became first mate of the Minnow. He had always thought of the hat as a gift from the Skipper. Thinking about the Skipper again made Gilligan wish he'd never come back to camp looking for a drink of water.

_All this is happening cause I did something stupid,_ he thought, plodding back towards his hammock. _If I weren't such a dummy we wouldn't be here right now. Boy, am I stupid._

"Gilligan, you can come out now," came the Professor's voice from outside.

Gilligan's self-bashing thoughts vanished and were instantly replaced with good thoughts of excitement. He enthusiastically ran out of the hut and hurried toward the returning search party. "Didja find him? Didja find him?" he asked loudly, hovering over the other castaways like a puppy hoping for a treat.

The Professor sighed in exhaustion. "Not even a trace," he said.

Mr. Howell raised his chin. "Sadly, not even us Howells were able to find the captain," he said.

"_We_ Howells," Mrs. Howell corrected him.

Gilligan's former gloomy mood returned to him. He slumped, his face visibly drooping.

"I guess I'd better start making dinner," said Mary Ann, walking away.

"I'll just go help Mary Ann," said Ginger. She followed the farm girl away.

"Let's take this time to rest. After dinner we can continue looking for the Skipper," said the Professor.

"Oh boy, more sitting around and doing nothing," Gilligan muttered sarcastically. "I wish I could remember what I did with him; then you guys wouldn't have to spend so much time looking for him." He sat down at the table and rested his cheek in his palm. "Boy, I really messed up this time, didn't I?" he questioned. "I _had_ to get addicted to those berries. Dumb berries. Dumb _me."_

"Gilligan, you are _not_ dumb just because you developed an addiction. Addictions are often beyond one's control," the Professor said. "I know I shouldn't have left the oil out where you could find it and consume it. Not everything that happened here was your fault."

Gilligan squinted at the scientist. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"Of course he's sure, darling," said Mrs. Howell, briefly patting Gilligan on the shoulder. "You know the Professor never says anything he doesn't mean."

"Even when no one can understand a word he says," Mr. Howell added. "He means it well, _whatever_ he means."

"You didn't bake the pies either," said the Professor.

"But Mary Ann saw me eating the berries. That's why she made the pies in the first place," said Gilligan. "I'd feel a lot better if I could help you guys find the Skipper. I know places you all don't know. I could really help." He looked up at the Professor pleadingly. "I promise I won't go near the berries."

"Ordinarily, I might let you come," said the Professor, "but you're not in control of yourself when you go after those berries. There's no telling what you might do."

Gilligan sighed gloomily again. "I just want to help," he muttered, feeling a surge of irritation run through him. He knew the Professor meant well, but he couldn't help but feel he was being treated unfairly. The Skipper was _his_ buddy. He had harmed him, and it seemed wrong for Gilligan to _not_ help find him. He just wished the Professor would see that.

**.~GI~.**

By dinnertime, the cloud of gloom still had not left Gilligan. Dinner helped cheer him up a little bit, but the sullen look remained in his eyes. He ate but was not as enthusiastic as he usually was. He was also very quiet the whole time, which was a big change from his normally chipper, talkative self.

After dinner, the Professor and the girls left to search for the Skipper again. The Howells stayed behind this time, as Gilligan was going to stay in their hut for the night. He felt tired, but he couldn't seem to sleep on the makeshift mat bed in between the Howells' beds. He wanted to be in his hammock, the Skipper snoring beneath him.

"Gilligan, my boy, remind me why you're in here again," Mr. Howell said.

"The Professor doesn't want me to eat any more of those berries that I'm addicted to, and the berries are in the jungle," Gilligan explained. He was lying flat on his back, his hands folded over his stomach.

"Yes, but why can't you stay in your own hut?" Mr. Howell continued, pacing back and forth.

Gilligan shut his eyes. "I'd get lonely. Plus, the Professor wants you guys to keep an eye on me," he said. "Please let me sleep, Mr. Howell."

"If you can do it without snoring," said Mr. Howell.

"I don't know how you're going to expect Gilligan to sleep over _your_ snoring, Thurston," Mrs. Howell remarked.

"_My_ snoring?" Mr. Howell exclaimed in offense. "Well, I'll have you know...!"

"It's OK. The Skipper snores up a thunderstorm at night. I'm used to it," said Gilligan, effectively cutting off the oncoming argument. "Saw logs all you like, it won't bother me."

"Saw logs?" Mr. Howell questioned. "Why, that's manual labor!"

Gilligan shifted his position. "G'night, Mr. and Mrs. Howell," he said, pulling his hat down over his eyes. He slowly drifted into a state of half-consciousness, fading in and out of sleep.

At one point, he woke up to hear Mr. Howell's snoring and the sound of a voice outside the hut. "He's sound asleep," it whispered.

"Good. Hopefully he'll start to recover," whispered another voice.

Gilligan then faded into unconsciousness again, this time for the rest of the night. Or so he thought.

**.~GI~.**

Eyes flew open. He was awake, so wide awake, and so hungry. He scrambled up, his bloodshot eyes wide. He needed the berries, _now!_ If he didn't get them, he would die of starvation! Gilligan could survive on something other, but his alterpersona could not.

He was the addiction incarnate, crazy for one thing and one thing alone... those tasty red berries. His appetite for them was utterly sickening. He knew that the more berries he ate, the stronger he would get. He could be more than a shadow or a vision. He could be more than Gilligan's persistant nightmare. He could be alive.

He left the Howells' hut and made a dash for the jungle, following his nose to find a supply of the beautiful red berries. Nothing could stop him in his quest. Another bush, another bush! There was one, and it was covered in the berries.

Dark Gilligan shovelled them in, getting berry juice all over his mouth and hands, completely unable to control himself around them. And he was soon sick with them. Dripping and nauseous, he started back to camp, stumbling like a drunkard. Even the shadow's mind was addled from all the berries. Somewhere in his head, Gilligan knew this was getting too far.

Dark Gilligan grew angry. He was making himself sick with his addiction. That was what frustrated him; he didn't want it to make him sick. Speaking of frustration, he began to think of what had frustrated him that day. The Skipper was gone and hidden away now. But what of the Professor? _Gilligan, don't come with us. You're a danger. But Professor, I only want to help._

He swallowed down the bile in his throat and continued back toward camp, his head going more askew.

**.~GI~.**

The next morning found Gilligan waking up in the Howells' hut once more. His hands felt sticky and he had a little bit of a headache. He also heard a clamor outside.

Blinking sleep from his eyes, he rose from the bed-mat and headed for the door. He saw the girls, their faces upset, and the Howells, who were fretting and muttering indistinguishable words. "What's wrong?" asked Gilligan.

They all turned to him. Both the girls' hands went over their mouths. "Oh, Gilligan, you did it again, didn't you?" Mary Ann asked. Ginger almost fainted. Mrs. Howell _did_ faint.

"Egad! You look like something that crawled out of a horror film!" Mr. Howell exclaimed, catching his wife.

"Zombies of London," said Ginger. "I was in it."

Gilligan looked down at himself. Not only were his _hands_ covered in a sticky red juice, but his jeans were splattered with it as well. He licked his cheek. Berry juice. His shirt was probably covered with it as well, but it was, luckily, the same color. "Oh no... I _did_ do it again!" he realized, stepping back. "And I took the Professor, didn't I?"

The collective nod from the others was all the response he needed.

**.~GI~.**

**I do recall saying this story would get kind of dark in some places... This is one of those places! The beginning of Chapter 7? Not as much. In fact the opening scene for Chapter 7 should be very much like an episode. I was easily picturing it and the words just kept coming. XD**

**Also, anyone ever wonder where the castaways go to the bathroom? XD I'm picturing a little grass-walled hut with a bamboo door with the little crescent moon on it, and a big sign out in front of it that says "outhouse". XD Just a random thought I had once...**

**Anyway, hope you enjoyed this weird chapter. And look, I edited some little mistakes I found in previous chapters! If I find any mistakes in this chapter, I will be sure to edit those out later, too. XD**


	7. Mind Your Own Business

**Chapter 7! ^^ I tell ya, the beginning of this chapter is so much like an episode that I was picturing it like an episode, laugh track and all! Even saw the camera views in my head, and the character's expressions. This is what happens when I have a real "writing spree". A writing spree is, in essence, the polar opposite of a writer's block. Unfortunately, for me, they tend to come BEFORE a writer's block. XD Which is, in fact, what happened.**

**But then these chapters aren't that lengthy (I have another story in which I had to break one chapter into two parts and another into three because they were so long- the one I broke into 3 parts is 27 pages long! College ruled. That's my record), so the updates have been relatively fast.**

**Also, before this chapter, this story (including my author's notes) had 12,321 words. XD 1-2-3-2-1!**

**Anyways, I will shut up now. Enjoy the chapter!**

**Chapter 7- Mind Your Own Business**

**.~GI~.**

Mary Ann set her hands on her hips. "Gilligan, you can't lock yourself in a closet for the rest of your life," she said, standing outside the food locker.

Gilligan opened the door and poked his head out. "Not for the rest of my life, but at least for the next few days!" he said before quickly shutting the door again.

Mary Ann sighed hopelessly. "Don't be silly, Gilligan," she said. "Nobody lives in a little wooden box."

"You'd be surprised," came Gilligan's muffled response. "It's actually kind of nice in here. I have room to move around, and there's even food in here."

Mary Ann folded her arms. "If you come out of there I'll make you your very own coconut cream pie," she said.

The food locker door opened again. Gilligan's head poked out again, his eyes hopeful. "Would you really?" he asked.

"Of course," said Mary Ann. Gilligan smiled. _It's working,_ thought the girl.

"What if I come out for pie and go right back in afterwards?" the young man asked, his eyes twinkling mischievously. Mary Ann shook her head. Gilligan's eyes stopped twinkling. "No thanks," he declined politely, shutting himself in again.

Mary Ann gave up. If pie couldn't lure him out, _nothing_ could. She left the hut.

Almost right after she left, in sauntered the Howells. Mr. Howell had bundles of cash in his hands and a wicked sparkle in his dark eyes. _No man can resist the temptation of cash,_ he thought, _not even Gilligan._

"Are you sure this will work, Thurston?" Mrs. Howell whispered. "You know Gilligan doesn't usually respond to bribes."

"Always a first time, Lovey, always a first time," said Mr. Howell. The couple approached the food locker. "Gilligan," Mr. Howell addressed. "I've got something for you."

Gilligan's head poked out again "If it's a bribe, it won't work," he said before once again disappearing into the locker.

"It's not a bribe, just some, ah, gentle persuasion," said Mr. Howell. "Persuasion with cash, that is. What, say, ten thousand to get you to come out?"

"Nope," said Gilligan.

"Twenty thousand?" No reply. "Still no? How's thirty thousand? Forty? Fifty?" His hopes faded as each offer was silently rejected. "One million dollars? ...A puppy?" He seemed to break. "J. P. Morgan, my boy, what can I offer you to get you to come out?" he exclaimed.

Gilligan opened the food locker door again and poked his head out. "Mr. Howell," he began, "you could offer me the _world_ and I wouldn't come out." With that, he shut himself in again.

Mr. Howell finally gave up. "Come on, Lovey," he said quietly. "He's _mad._" The couple left the hut again.

Then Ginger came in. She had a plan up her sleeve, for this was the sort of thing she did best. She knocked on the locker door. "Gilligan," she said in a sultry voice. "Please come out. I want to see your handsome face."

The door slowly opened as Gilligan's head inched out, until his big blue-green eyes were peeking up at Ginger. He didn't come any further. Ginger smiled seductively. "There you are," she said. "Now, there's no reason a good-looking young man like you should be all locked up in there," she said, bending over.

"Sure there is," said Gilligan, wary of her tone. "I carried the Skipper and the Professor to some place in the jungle. Any one of you could be next and I don't want that to happen."

Ginger opened the door a little more and reached in. She carressed Gilligan's cheek with her fingers, ignoring the uncomfortable shifting he made at her touch. "That doesn't matter," she said.

"And..." Gilligan gulped, tracing the path of Ginger's fingers with his eyes, "...why not?

"I know you don't mean to do it," whispered Ginger, edging closer to the young man's face. "Some silly berries aren't going to keep you away from me, now, are they?"

Gilligan grabbed the door to the food locker and backed up. "No, but this door will," he said, quickly shutting the door.

Ginger looked surprised for a moment before turning towards the audience and shrugging. Then she too left the hut.

**.~GI~.**

"Nothing we've tried has worked," said Ginger, sitting around the community table with Mary Ann and the Howells.

"I don't know _why_ he wants to stay in that tiny little box," commented Mrs. Howell. "It seems so cramped!"

"He turned down my bribes," Mr. Howell said.

Mary Ann rested her cheek in her palm. "He turned down _my_ offer for pie," she said.

"I don't blame him, after what happened yesterday," said Mr. Howell, casting a slight glance at Mary Ann.

"There has to be _some_ way to get him out of there," said Mary Ann, choosing to ignore Mr. Howell's somewhat biting remark.

"Well, we can't sit here thinking all day," said Ginger. "The Skipper and the Professor are still missing."

Mr. Howell suddenly stood up. "Ginger, that's it!" he exclaimed. "If we let Gilligan come with us to search for them, he might just come out!"

"Oh, Thurston, darling, you're so terribly clever," said Mrs. Howell, rising and drawing closer to her husband.

"Great idea, Mr. Howell," said Mary Ann. "Let's go tell him."

The four castaways hurried back into the hut. "Gilligan? Gilligan, we have a deal to make with you. All of us," said Mr. Howell.

Gilligan's head poked out of the food locker again. "What is it?" he asked.

"Well," Mary Ann began, "We wanted you to come help us search for the Skipper and the Professor."

The young man's expression brightened. "You do?" he asked, a smile creeping onto his lips.

"Of course, Gilligan," Ginger agreed. "You know this island best, after all."

Gilligan grinned shyly. "I guess I do," he said. He climbed out of the food locker and shut the door behind him. "Can we go look now?" he asked, looking at everyone.

"Why not? The day's not getting any longer, you know," said Mrs. Howell.

Gilligan observed each of their four faces. "Well... if I _do_ go after those berries, you all have to promise to hold me back," he said.

They all promised. Then, the five castaways headed off into the jungle.

**.~GI~.**

The Professor stirred to consciousness. He blinked several times and observed his surroundings, trying to get an idea of where he was. Steep, rocky, dirty walls rose up above him by many feet. Sunlight barely shone through the thick coating of fern leaves and brush covering the top of the hole.

"Professor, thank goodness you're awake!"

The Professor looked up to see a familiar face. "Skipper!" he declared, sitting up. "So _this_ is where he took you. And it seems he took me as well."

"I wish I knew where he took my _hat,_ said the Skipper, folding his arms and shooting an incredulous glance up at his head. Then he sighed. "Do you know what's wrong with my little buddy?" he asked with concern.

The Professor sighed. "Well, Skipper, I'm afraid Gilligan has an addiction to the janupa berry," he said.

The Skipper was startled. "An addiction?" he asked. "But... how?"

The professor looked pensive. "I'm not sure," he said. "But I'll continue to think about it. All I know is that these berries have turned him into a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde."

**.~GI~.**

The party moved through the jungle. Gilligan suggested looking in the secret places he knew. They didn't find the men in any of these places, but the other castaways did realize that Gilligan knew a lot of places that they didn't.

"Have we looked _everywhere,_ Gilligan?" asked Mary Ann.

Gilligan shoved his hands in his pockets. "Everywhere I can remember," he said, hanging his head.

"You've _got_ to remember where you _put_ them, my boy!" Mr. Howell exclaimed.

"I wish I _could,_ Mr. Howell," said Gilligan. "I know it's somewhere up there. Gee, I wish the Professor was still here. Then he could hypnotize me into remembering."

"I know how to hypnotize people," said Ginger.

Gilligan looked at her hopefully. "You do?"

"Yes, I do! Come on, let's go back to camp and try it." The group headed back with renewed vigor, hoping that hypnotism would help.

**.~GI~.**

"All right, Gilligan. Are you ready?"

Ginger and Gilligan were sitting in chairs opposite each other in the girls' hut. Gilligan nodded unsurely. "Ready as I'll ever be," he said.

"All right, then we can begin," said Ginger. She raised the ball on the chain and began swinging it back and forth. "You are falling into a deep sleep. A deep, deep sleep," Ginger whispered softly.

Gilligan's eyes were trained on the ball. Slowly, it grew fuzzier and fuzzier, until he dropped off into unconsciousness. Ginger put the ball down. "Now Gilligan, you have to remember. Remember what you did to the Skipper and the Professor. Remember where you put them. Now, when you wake up, you will remember _everything_."

"When I wake up, I will remember... everything," Gilligan mumbled.

Ginger snapped her fingers. Gilligan's eyes shot open. "So? What do you remember?" asked Ginger. Gilligan stared back at her without a word, but merely with blank eyes. "Gilligan?" Ginger waved her hand in front of his face, with scarcely a blink from him. "Gilligan? Ooh, Gilligan." She snapped her fingers a few more times.

_Did I do something wrong?_ she wondered. "Oh... everyone, I think I messed up the hypnotism!" she declared, running out of the hut. "After I woke him up, he just sat there and stared at me with this glazed-over look in his eyes."

Ginger and the other three castaways hurried into the girls' hut. they gasped. "He's gone," Ginger said.

Mr. Howell uneasily checked over his shoulder. "If he was in the state you said he was in, _I_ wouldn't want to encounter him," he said, producing his teddy bear. He hugged the toy nervously.

"We may have to," said Mary Ann. "What Ginger described sounds just like what Gilligan looked like when he went after those berries he's addicted to."

"Oh, I do hope he gets over that _dreadful_ addiction of his," said Mrs. Howell.

"Should we go after him?" asked Ginger.

"If it's anything like last time, we _have_ to," said Mary Ann.

"Well, I can't allow you two girls to go by yourselves," said Mrs. Howell. She then looked thoughtful. "What does one wear to a chase?"

"We don't have time to worry about that now, Mrs. Howell," said Mary Ann. "Gilligan could be hurting himself out there."

"Well, all right," consigned the eldest of the ladies. The three women started off. Mrs. Howell paused and turned back around. "Aren't you coming, Thurston?" she questioned.

Mr. Howell hugged his teddy bear tighter. "With a demented Gilligan out there, waiting to pounce? I'd rather stay here, where it's safe!" he declared.

"Suit yourself," said Mary Ann. The girls wandered back off into the jungle, leaving Mr. Howell to himself.

"Can you believe them?" he asked aloud. "I'll just stay here alone and guard the camp." He suddenly looked frightened. "I'm alone," he said. "Why... I'm a sitting duck!" Mr. Howell jogged off after the women, shouting things like, "Wait for me! I don't want to be here alone! I've changed my mind, I've changed my mind!"

**.~GI~.**

**The chapter title? referring to the hypnotism.**

**I'm not entirely sure what all my plans for the next chapter are, but I'm mainly glad I finally finished this chapter. Whewf!**

**I had a lot of fun writing the Howells in this chapter, though. Heck, that whole opening scene was a lot of fun. XD**

**Hopefully I can post a story preview at some point... x.x I am, as I said, trying to work in three projects at once already. Please review. ^^**


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